


XXX

by tenandi



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dark!Crowley, I REGRET NOTHING, Seduction, smut for days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-10-25 17:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20728013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenandi/pseuds/tenandi
Summary: Aziraphale took in the still form of his archnemesis, his eyes lingering on the pout of his lower lip. He was a demon of seduction, no doubt.“Let me ask you something,” the demon continued, his dark gloved hands coming up to trace over the angel’s shoulders. He leaned forward to whisper in the blonde’s ear. “Now that you have me, what are you planning to do with me?”-They ran into each other throughout history.





	1. Victorian England

He saw the demon from time to time, skating along the outline of deep shadows that kept him concealed. He still knew he was there. He’d seen a flash of his red hair once, spilling out of a regency tophat. Long, dangling limbs that flailed like a paper-doll's from the center of gravity in his hips. He could never make out his face.

Aziraphale knew the demon's work was Hellish in nature. Occasionally the foul fiend would undo the angel’s miracles, reversing them on a lark right in front of him. Then he would hear cruel laughter but never sighted the villain. To thwart the demon, just once, would satisfy the angel. Aziraphale didn’t understand then what he was wishing for. Better that he had stayed his course and left well enough alone.

Victorian London at night under an impatient queue of gas lights. The air was damp with lingering drizzle. The angel heard a sob echo from the alleyway and moved toward it protectively. He’d only rounded the corner when his eyes took in the sight of the demon himself, pressed against a woman and her pressed to the wall. Aziraphale watched as the redhead moved lithe fingers up her thigh, parting a sea of silk that rippled in the waves of his touch.

Her head fell back and she moaned. Aziraphale could watch the sinful temptation no longer. He tapped his cane against the ground and cleared his throat, prepared to dole out his heavenly consternation.

“Get back, foul fiend!” he commanded.

The woman looked up at him as if she’d been in a trance and was only just waking up. Her eyes flew back to the face of her captor, black sunglasses tilting down his nose to reveal… She screamed and pushed him away, tearing down the alley without so much as a single glance back.

The demon discarded the glasses and looked Aziraphale full in the face for the first time. Perhaps he’d meant to intimidate the angel with his serpentine eyes, but Aziraphale was made of stronger stuff.

“Now, now,” the demon purred as he approached. “You’ve gone and spoiled my fun. Such a pity.”

“I won’t apologize,” the angel huffed. “You’ve sown tempestuous discord all over London these past three months. I was going to catch up with you eventually.”

The demon tilted his neck, revealing his jugular. “So you did,” he said with interest. He’d gotten close enough now that he could reach out and touch the angel if he so pleased. Instead, he angled back, hips off axis, a study in contrapposto.

Aziraphale took in the still form of his archnemesis, his eyes lingering on the pout of his lower lip. He was a demon of seduction, no doubt.

“Let me ask you something,” the demon continued, his dark gloved hands coming up to trace over the angel’s shoulders. He leaned forward to whisper in the blonde’s ear. “Now that you have me, what are you planning to do with me?”

Aziraphale suppressed an involuntary shudder. The distinct scent of orange, lavender, and basil wafted under his nose. Demons weren’t supposed to smell like that, he thought unsteadily. Unsteadier, now that the redhead was sinking into the angel’s personal space. It was so effortless, the way he moved. Like he was floating underwater. Aziraphale swallowed hard.

“It’s rude not to answer,” the demon said as he walked around the angel and stood talking to his back. The angel realized he’d lost the ability to move.

“The only thing I’m planning to do is thwart your dark plans!” Aziraphale said more bravely than he felt. He was able to clench his hands into fists, hopefully making a good show of it. He tried to peer up and sideways to illustrate his disinterest rather than demonstrate his immobile state.

Suddenly, a hot breath ghosting down the back of his neck. “What if I thwart you first?”

Aziraphale was thrown into the closest wall of the alley face first, his cheek pressed up against the cold brick facade. Hands grasped his wrists to keep him there while a firm, but thin thigh pressed in between his legs.

“Oh, this is fun,” the demon whispered. “Having fun?”

Aziraphale tried to shake his head but could barely move it. The demon’s wiles prevented much range of motion. Evidencing that, the demon’s hands released Aziraphale’s and they stayed where they were on the wall. Those devilish hands, so long and delicate, spider-crawled down the angel’s body until they reached his waist.

“What are you doing?” the angel ground out. The hands were encircling him now, tugging at his trousers.

The blonde’s eyes went wide with alarm. “Stop this!” he commanded. His attempt to regain control of the situation was lost on the demon, who had pushed the angel’s pants down to his knees. The next thing he knew, a wet, hot sensation was licking down the cleft of his ass. The demon was kissing and worshipping his crack while working steadily lower.

“Dear Lord!” Aziraphale breathed out. “Please!” The desperation in his voice was thinner this time.

The demon’s tongue lapped at his hole and the angel trembled, half-shivering against the cold and the alien sensation. At the same time, a hand came up to explore the length of him, inexplicably hard and ready for the demon. Aziraphale felt a deep vibration between his cheeks as the demon hummed approvingly. It caused the angel to thrust forward of his own volition.

The demon’s hand left the angel’s cock and moved to arch a few happy fingers inside of him instead. To this, Aziraphale practically groaned in pleasure.

The demon stood while continuing his motions. “You like that?” he asked sinfully against Aziraphale’s ear.

The angel gasped. His hips were jerking up and down, chasing the fingers as they slicked in and out. “I’ve never…” he breathed. “Oh, please…”

The demon laughed quietly to himself before biting at the angel’s earlobe. At this angle and proximity, the angel could feel the demon’s hard cock rubbing against his lower back.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you, angel?” the redhead asked. His own excitement was starting to show in the gravel of his tone, his faster breathing.

“You’re…” the angel stuttered. “You’re going to put yourself inside me.”

“I'm going to fuck you,” the demon corrected. He added a third finger to his ministrations and Aziraphale positively whimpered. “Mm, I like that little noise,” the demon replied. “I wonder what noises you’ll make when you come for me?”

The angel was pushing himself harder against the wall as if to escape the growing sensations in his body. “Please,” he begged.

“Please what?” the demon tormented him. “Are you ready for me? You’re so wet and open for me. What a filthy, vile angel you are.”

Aziraphale answered him with an uncontrolled moan. “No,” he gasped out. “No, please…”

He heard the demon’s pants rustling and the next thing he knew those clever fingers were long gone. In their stead, a hot, hard, velvety cock teased at his entrance. “I’m gonna bounce you on my cock you dirty slut,” the demon hissed. “And you’re going to ride me, aren’t you?” He pressed himself in and Aziraphale swallowed the tip inside his body. The demon made a practiced tease of dipping just the tip in and out, in and out until the angel started to shudder.

“You want more. I can tell,” the demon breathed. He pushed in a few more inches and used his hands to make the angel’s hips circle around him. The change in direction turned Aziraphale into a whimpering mess.

“Ohh fuck you love this,” the demon exhaled. “I make it so good for you, don’t I?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale’s voice rang out despite himself.

The demon groaned, low and heavy as he bent the angel over, varying the angle of penetration. He slid in to the hilt and snapped back, making Aziraphale gasp. He hovered right inside the angel’s entrance but refused to move.

Aziraphale let out a whimper, straining to look around at the demon.

“Remember what I told you?” the redhead smiled deviously. The angel nodded and couldn't resist sinking back until he was fully seated on the demon’s cock. “Now ride, angel,” came the command.

Aziraphale pushed himself back and forth, slapping against the demon’s waist on every return. He steadied himself on the wall to keep from falling as he drove back again and again. His mouth huffed broken syllables and moans.

“Oh yeah,” the demon grunted as he dug his hands into the angel’s fleshy hips, finally relenting to match Aziraphale’s bucking rhythm. The angel lost himself in their jerking movements that frenzied the bundle of nerves in his prostate.

“Come on,” the demon urged, his strokes becoming sloppy. “Come for me, baby.” He reached down and jacked the angel as fast as he could, finding a brutal pace that had the angel crying out for more.

“Don’t stop,” Aziraphale sobbed. “God in Heaven don’t stop!”

“Fuck,” the demon swore as his own release coiled tightly in his abdomen. Watching the angel rock against him, his round ass wobbling, was enough to send him over the edge. Aziraphale cried out long and loud, arresting his own movements to ride out an intense orgasm. The demon went right with him, pumping his cock inside the angel for two, three more strokes before his knees threatened to give out as he came.

Both practically collapsed against the wall and slid down the side of the building. Their breath fogged into the night and away.

Aziraphale could hardly believe what he’d just done. Or more so, what had been done to him. He’d only wandered in the alleyway to check on someone’s welfare. He’d never expected...whatever the fuck just happened.

He looked over at the demon who was starting to look a little more put together. He’d replaced his glasses on his face and grinned at the angel with abandon.

“That was way more fun than what I’d had planned,” he said slyly.

Aziraphale’s cheeks were ablaze. “I can’t believe you...you tempted me to sin! You truly are the most odious, terrible-”

The demon cut him off by standing over him, rudely adjusting himself over his pants. He noticed the angel’s gaze was definitely lingering on his bulge.

“Now, now,” the redhead sang. “That’s no way to talk to someone who just fucked you into next millennium. Speaking of, I suppose I might see you there.”

“I certainly hope not!” the angel affirmed. He stood to his full height but still fell short of the demon. He scrambled at his trousers as he immediately realized they were still undone. The redhead just laughed to himself.

“Of course,” he said, disbelief plain on his face. “But if I do...I’ll make you beg for it next time. No more freebies, angel.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to protest but the demon had vanished, leaving behind a cloud of acrid smoke. He straightened his clothes erratically to vent his frustration, but even then something stopped him in his tracks. ‘I’ll make you beg for it,’ echoed in his mind and sent him to shuddering all over again.


	2. Early 20th century France

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good lord this is the dirtiest thing I've ever written. It's not going to get any better from here on out. That's a promise!

Aziraphale had been assigned to the abbey in Marmagne in 1910. He enjoyed the peaceful world of the brothers there, and often busied himself with the copying of medieval scrolls when he wasn’t in quiet prayer. Despite the holy atmosphere, however, the angel was often drawn to dark thoughts from the 1850s. He tried hard to distract himself from lingering on those memories for too long, or else fall into the trap of wishing to relive them.

He had been stationed with the monks for about two weeks when he received his first summons from the Abbot. Aziraphale couldn’t help but be nervous as one of his brothers led him to the small chapel where he was to meet his supervisor. Invitations to meet with him were exceedingly rare. The Abbot kept a robust schedule of prayer and study.

He stepped into the chapel alone and didn’t see the Abbot initially. Instead, he knelt on a simple wooden pew and bowed his head. It was warm in the chapel, and tiny dust motes drifted through the air. Aziraphale closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

“Aziraphale,” a voice echoed from behind. The angel turned to see the Abbot wearing a heavy cloak. His face obscured by the hood. “I’ve heard some...disappointing rumors about you,” the man began.

Aziraphale’s face fell. “Oh no! Oh dear!” he worried aloud. “Whatever have you heard?”

The Abbot walked to the front of the chapel and sat in an ornate red chair. “I’ve heard that you talk in your sleep about...questionable acts.”

The angel jumped to his feet and bowed before the Abbot. “Please, father,” he cried. “If I do it’s only because something happened a long time ago. I didn’t want it to happen but now I’m plagued by the memory. I do not wish to corrupt my fellow monks.”

“You’ve had confession?” the Abbot asked smoothly.

The angel wrung his hands. “Not...not yet, precisely,” he admitted.

“Very well,” the Abbot said. “You shall confess to me, then.”

Aziraphale nodded and began to recite, “Bless me Father for I-”

“Not like that,” the Abbot interrupted. “We have a special procedure here. Now lay here over my lap.”

The angel blushed and stuttered. “On your lap father?”

The Abbot made a huffing noise of disapproval which struck the angel to his core. Immediately he scrambled to obey. He rested his stomach over the Abbot’s lap and tried to relax. The chair under them was large enough to accommodate him comfortably despite the unusual position.

“Now,” the Abbot proceeded. “Tell me your troubles.”

Aziraphale hesitated. “I was...led into temptation.”

“What kind?” his superior asked.

The angel bit his lower lip before continuing. “I engaged in pleasures of the flesh,” he said finally.

“Hm,” the Abbot muttered. “Which pleasures?”

Aziraphale knew he needed to be completely honest if he was going to be forgiven. “I...I let a man touch me, father.”

“Where?” the Abbot continued, unrelenting in his interrogation.

“He stroked my...my member sir,” the angel tried.

“Your what?” the Abbot countered.

“My organ?” he tried again.

“Be clear, Aziraphale,” the Abbot demanded suddenly. “I don’t have all day!”

The angel cringed with anger and embarrassment. “My cock!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the chapel.

“Ahhh,” the Abbot replied, oddly unbothered by Aziraphale’s outburst. A hand came to rest on the angel’s lower thigh. “And how did it feel?”

Aziraphale’s cheeks were burning. “I...I must confess it felt good, father.”

A resounding smack filled the air at the same time Aziraphale felt a burning pain drive through his ass. His face twisted around to look at the Abbot. “Did you just...spank me?” he gasped.

The Abbot groaned impatiently. “You can see that I did. Continue. Where else did he touch you?”

Aziraphale looked back at the stone floor hopelessly. “He...um...he licked me father...between my cheeks.” Another sharp spank tingled through his right buttock. This time it didn’t hurt so much, but it was still jarring. The angel swallowed heavily before continuing. “He put his cock inside me.”

“Inside you?” the Abbot asked slowly.

“He...he fucked me father, and I resisted at first, I swear, but soon it was like I had no control anymore and he told me...he told me to ride him and I did! And it felt so good I thought I’d never feel anything that good again!” His words tumbled out of his mouth, but he was caught off guard by an open handed slap that hit right between his cheeks. He felt the Abbot reach down to grab the hem of his robes and fling it up over his hips. The angel’s naked ass was exposed to the air. He didn’t have time to respond before another slap vibrated through his body, but this time the sound of skin on skin was more than suggestive.

Aziraphale stiffened, focusing on the sensation before realizing with extreme embarrassment that he liked this. He shifted his body over the Abbot’s thighs and found the slight friction overwhelmingly enjoyable. He was getting hard.

“I...I wanted him to fuck me. When he stopped moving I moved for him. I let myself rock back and forth on his cock,” Aziraphale breathed out.

The Abbot’s hand flew through the air, catching the bottom of the angel’s round ass, right where his legs joined his lower cheeks. Aziraphale wiggled. He could feel the vibration through his balls and it was incredible. For the first time, the angel moaned out loud and the Abbot followed up with several spankings, some hard and brutal while others were soft and almost playful. All the while, Aziraphale rubbed himself on the Abbot. He prayed that he wouldn’t notice.

After a particularly sharp smack the Abbot stilled. His breath could be heard panting from under his hood. “Aziraphale,” he said unsteadily. “What do think you would do if you saw this man again?”

The angel whimpered, unsure of how to respond. Before he could reply the Abbot changed his question. “I mean...what would you want to do to him?”

Aziraphale groaned as he felt the Abbot’s fingers tracing along the crack of his ass.

“Oh dear God,” the angel gasped. “I would...I would take him in my mouth, father. I want to taste his cock, suck on his sac until he cries out for me.”

The Abbot began to spank Aziraphale with abandon, setting up a rhythm that allowed the angel to finally disguise his rubbing off as shaking under the heavy hand of his supervisor. He groaned as he humped the Abbot’s legs, shocked to find a resulting hardness as he shifted closer to the Abbot’s body.

In his flurry of movements, the Abbot’s hood finally dropped away and Aziraphale gazed back at him. It was the demon, after all. The redhead’s eyes were hooded as he held the angel’s surprised stare. His head was tilted back as he continued to spank the blonde.

“You’ve been so bad,” the demon cooed.

Aziraphale’s expression went from shock to desire immediately. “Yes,” he rasped out. “So bad!” Cum was leaking out of his cock, creating a lubricated pool to ease his thrusts on the demon’s lap.

“Think of all the different ways I ought to punish you,” the redhead continued. His spankings decreased and were replaced by intense groping over the angel’s ass.

Aziraphale nearly came when the demon leaned forward and spat into his crack. He gathered the liquid on his fingers and used it to ease inside the angel’s puckered hole.

“Ah!” Aziraphale yelped. He’d forgotten what this could feel like. It was so good. The demon fucked him with his fingers while whispering dark, dirty words.

“That’s what I thought,” he groaned. “I can feel how wet and hard you are. You’re still my little slut then? Have you let anyone else touch you besides me?”

The angel could feel the outline of the demon’s cock rubbing against his stomach and keened. “No! Never!”

“Swear it!” the demon hissed.

“I swear!” the angel sobbed.

The demon stopped his ministrations and pulled Aziraphale up by his white curls. Spreading his own legs, the demon yanked up his robe and shoved his cock into the angel’s mouth. The blonde’s eyes widened at the assault. The demon was too large to fit in all the way. His eyes immediately started to water.

“Shh,” the demon whispered as his eyes rolled back in his head. “Suck me Aziraphale. My beautiful twisted angel.”

Aziraphale hummed while relaxing his throat to allow the demon further passage. He gazed up at the redhead, enraptured by the flicker of expressions moving across his face. Pleasure, desire, awe...all because of Aziraphale. It emboldened him.

The angel sunk forward until he felt the tip of the demon’s cock hit the back of his throat. He swallowed into it, delighting in the resultant sounds he could pull from the demon. One hand sank into the demon’s thigh while the other found his own erection, stroking it deftly.

“Ohh,” the demon groaned. “Look at you. So eager for me. So hungry. Do you love the taste of me?”

Aziraphale moaned high and long in assent, which drove the demon to drive faster into the angel’s ready mouth. Soon he felt a stuttered pulsing between his tongue and the top of his palette, and the demon was exploding inside of him, spilling his seed down the back of the angel’s throat.

Aziraphale drew off to watch the demon’s exhausted expression, eyes now locked on the angel’s frenzied masturbation.

“That’s it,” the demon whispered roughly. “Show me how you like it.”

Aziraphale’s breath hitched as the demon’s eyes traced over his swift tight grip. He allowed his free hand to cradle his balls, still on his knees in supplication to the redhead. He was ready to burst. A sudden boldness overtook the angel. His blue eyes raised up to capture the demon’s glowing snake eyes.

“I like it when you watch,” Aziraphale gasped. “I want you to.”

The demon shattered at the confession and leaned forward, fire behind his eyes.

“I’m watching,” he hissed, licking his lips before he groaned. “The sight of you…”

Aziraphale came, his come desecrating the holy ground of the chapel as it streaked through the air. He sat back on his heels, feeling the bruising pain that reverberated from his punished rear.

The demon chuckled low in his throat as he relaxed back into his chair. “I absolve you, my son,” he said finally. And just like before, he vanished from his sight.

The angel collapsed forward and let his cheek rub against the cool stone floor. He could see his own gleaming come just inches from his face.


	3. The Jazz Age, United States

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our father who art in heaven please forgive me for this raucous smut. Not really though.

Aziraphale received an ornate invitation to what promised to be the gala of the century. The mysterious Mr. Crowley, an eccentric millionaire who had a clouded reputation, was hosting a fête at his sumptuous Long Island residence.

Rumors abounded of the preparations. An entire orchestra would play for the guests. Delicacies and rare champagnes would be flown in from all over the world. Private chauffeurs would individually escort invitees to Crowley’s door. The angel couldn’t have been more excited. His time on America’s east coast had been blissfully dull. The cultural underpinnings of the roaring 20s brought unprecedented wealth and consumer goods to American families, leaving little for an angel to ameliorate.

Aziraphale dressed sharply for the occasion. His slim-fitting suit belted in the back, a carry over from the war years. He admired the navy blue color which complemented his wide baby blue tie, matching his eyes.

When the angel arrived he was mesmerized by the bulbed string lights littered across the gardens flanking Crowley’s estate. The party was alive and well, bleeding out with jewel-encrusted flappers, young British men in light flannel, and visitors from all walks of life, both near and far. An enormous fountain spewed white, foamy water at the center.

Aziraphale swallowed and made his way inside the home. If the exterior had been a study of the most elaborate debauchery, than the interior matched the caustic decadence of Hell. Film stars, heiresses, playboys, legendary athletes crowded in under the watchful eye of an ornate crystal chandelier. Booze poured from the walls.

The angel approached one of several cocktail tables and ordered a drink, asking after the host.

“Crowley?” the servant chuffed, handing him a martini. “No one’s seen Mr. Crowley. Some say he doesn’t even exist!”

Aziraphale balked at the idea just as a series of fireworks set off beyond the large upstairs balcony. He followed the crowd toward the booming lights and rested gently upon a Corinthian column.

“Enjoying the party?” a female voice asked behind him. Aziraphale couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sparkling display outside.

“Very much,” he said loudly. “But I’m wondering about our host. Strange to never see him at his own affair.”

“Allow me to introduce you,” the woman stated.

Suddenly Azirphale was drawn back by his arm and turned toward the crowd. He was being steered from behind and had no choice but to continue onward. The press of people around him was so tight he couldn’t turn around to ask the woman behind him any questions. Eventually they came to a large oak door and it croaked open. The hand that held him pushed him inside and shut the door, leaving Aziraphale to stare back and realize the lady had vanished outside.

The angel stared at the room, a study of some sort squeezed in by a suffocating number of books on either side. He could make out a man’s silhouette standing at the window, watching the revelry outside. A crackling fire by the hearth illuminated his frame.

“I trust you’ve had a fine time so far,” the man breathed out.

The angel felt something stir inside of him. There was a familiar ring to the voice. He approached slowly.

“Mr. Crowley, I presume?” he asked tentatively.

The man chuckled. “One and the same.” He stepped away from the shadowed window and revealed himself to the angel.

“You!” Aziraphale accused. His face burned in embarrassment as he recalled their last two encounters. “You made me desecrate a chapel!”

“Made you?” the demon asked, cocking his head. “Ah. Just like the first time, right? You had no choice in the matter?”

The angel sneered. “You kept me immobile and had your way with me on our first meeting!”

“Did I?” Crowley countered innocently. And then more forcefully, “Did I?”

When he repeated the phrase it sounded differently in the angel’s ears. He had, hadn’t he? His mind flew back to the occasion. Surely he wouldn’t freeze up on his own… But if he did, it meant the demon didn’t hold so much power over him as he’d thought. Something deep inside of him clicked but he didn’t let it show outwardly.

“Why did you entice me here?” Aziraphale demanded.

The redhead seated himself on a large desk and spread his legs. The angel couldn’t help but note the tuxedo he wore hugged at every sinew and muscle of the demon’s body. “Would you believe me if I said I missed you?”

The angel tried for a harassed grunt that slightly missed the mark. The demon stood and walked toward him, around him, assessingly. “That I missed your scent?” he continued. “The taste of you? The sounds you elicit with every touch?”

Aziraphale steeled himself to resist these words. “What do you want with me?” he ground out.

“I don’t want anything with you,” Crowley replied. His fingers went into the angel’s downy white curls and scratched up toward his crown. “I just want you.”

Aziraphale turned and caught his wrist with surprising strength, twisting it into an uncomfortable angle. His ice blue eyes pierced through the demon’s, into the space where his soul would be if he had one. Then the angel smirked.

Crowley internally stumbled and uncertainty played over his features. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He searched the angel’s gaze for answers.

“What if I want you?” Aziraphale countered. “To do with you as I like, as you have with me all this time? What if I want control? What if you don’t have a say in it at all?”

The demon blanched and tried to regain his composure, sneering slightly. “Doubtful,” he hissed.

Aziraphale realized that everything that had happened up until now had been his choice, even if influenced by the demon. By his very nature he was stronger, more resilient, and more powerful than Crowley. He just hadn’t shown his cards yet.

The angel twisted the demon’s arm so hard and so fast the villain flipped around backwards and landed on the plush Persian rug beneath them. At the same time a large log in the fire cracked and sighed, sending sparks up the flume. Crowley grunted as he realized his vulnerable position. The angel had him pinned on his stomach with one arm behind his back.

“Don’t say you’re surprised,” the angel said in a low tone. “That would be so...disappointing.”

The demon flailed beneath him helplessly. “Bastard!” he growled.

Aziraphale laughed easily. He drew a string of angelic cord out of his jacket and bound the demon's hands. He’d been keeping it on him for just such an occasion. Crowley hissed as the cord singed his wrists.

The angel bent down flush with the demon’s cheek. “Does it hurt my lovely?” His tongue flicked out to taste the outer edge of Crowley’s ear and sucked on his earlobe. The demon grunted.

“Good.”

Aziraphale stood and rolled the demon over with his foot, smiling casually. Crowley’s angry snarl was worth it alone, but the angel had other plans for him. Slowly he stripped off Crowley’s excellent black trousers and laughed quietly to himself.

“If you’re trying to act like you hate this you’re failing miserably,” the angel noted. He reached down to trace the demon’s unquestionable erection.

Crowley sneered. “Automatic response,” he lied.

“Is that so?” the angel asked as he tugged on Crowley’s length, drawing out a strangled moan from the redhead. Aziraphale let his hands drift up the demon’s stomach under his white button up and tie, not bothering to remove them. He found his nipples and squeezed hard.

The sound that came out of the demon was new this time. It was so desperate and wanting. Aziraphale decided to not keep him waiting. The angel’s clothing came off article by article, dropping each on the settee nearby. Crowley’s eyes watched him hungrily, his leaking cock twitching at each new inch of skin revealed by the firelight.

“You know what I’m going to do?” the angel asked, reminiscent of their first time together. The demon shook his head but it was too eager to be laced with fear. He was pure desire. He strained his back over his bound hands, a dull pain ebbing from the combined holy enchantment and his weight on top on them.

Aziraphale kneeled next to the demon’s head and smiled, the look on his face absolutely filthy. “I’m going to fuck your mouth.”

Crowley gasped at these words and Aziraphale took advantage of his surprise. He straddled the demon’s face in a 69 position. With one smooth thrust he penetrated Crowley’s mouth, forcing his head backwards. His balls dangling above the demon’s nose.

The blonde groaned loudly as he slid back up, catching the demon’s wet tongue as he went. Instead of resisting, Crowley hollowed his mouth to suck at the angel lustily.

“That’s good,” Aziraphale commended. “Keep that up and I might return the favor.” He looked down at Crowley’s twitching cock and heard the demon whimper hopefully. He redoubled his efforts in hopes that the angel would make good on his promise.

Aziraphale moved up and down using his hips and knees to set the pace he wanted, regardless of the demon’s comfort or input, but he didn’t seem to be minding. Instead he began to moan and chase the angel’s cock when it started to slip from his mouth.

The blonde fucked Crowley’s face with abandon and let his head fall down on the redhead’s stomach, just inches from his hard need. Being a complete, irrevocable bastard he let his panting mouth blow hot breaths over it, teasing the demon.

Crowley hummed low in his throat with frustration, but it only pleased the angel more.

“Ohh your mouth is so sweet,” Aziraphale praised. “You’re doing so well. Do you want me to lick you?”

Crowley’s response was a harried and choked groan, his hips bucking up to make his point more emphatically. He sucked as hard as he could to urge the angel on, and when Aziraphale licked one lazy, thick stripe up the demon’s cock Crowley came with abandon, hardly touched.

Aziraphale pulled out of the demon, leaving Crowley gasping on the floor. The angel straddled his lap, rubbing against the redhead’s slickened stomach. All Crowley could do was watch as Aziraphale stroked himself furiously until he came all over the demon’s chest, grunting with his own heady release.

Crowley moaned and closed his eyes, christened by the angel’s seed.

Aziraphale didn’t bother to undo the demon’s ties, but stood to wipe himself off and redress with slow, clumsy movements. He glared down as his wreck of a rival, still heaving in ragged breaths on the floor.

The demon stared up at him with half-hooded lids.

The blonde towered over him, the picture of angelic revenge.

“Don’t underestimate me again, Crowley,” he said sternly.

He left him there, half naked and bound, without a second glance back.


	4. 1940s Poland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interlude

The angel was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open as he marched. He’d been on the front lines for weeks, but even Heaven couldn’t keep Hitler at bay. He was forced to retreat with the rear guard, or at least what was left of them.

The men had long since camped down for the night but Aziraphale trudged on. He wanted to make sure the path ahead was safe for those who would come after him. He hadn’t made it terribly far when he heard hushed German accents mumbling. It sounded like they were heading straight toward him.

Aziraphale tried to get off of the path but didn’t have enough time to escape their notice. Two rough-looking Nazi’s were on him before he realized it. Mutely he tried to struggle but it was no use. He was too ground down to resist. One of the men had a knife to his throat while the other assessed him, laughing and hurling insults at him in German.

The angel sagged in his captor’s arms, willing himself to find the strength to fight. It looked like it was all over for him until the man cajoling him was suddenly swept off the trail. It happened so fast Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he’d imagined his disappearance. The Nazi holding him blinked and started shouting for his friend to no avail. The soldier was simply gone.

Aziraphale grew dizzy trying to keep up with what was happening. His captor screamed into his ear and dropped his hold on the angel who fell limbless to the ground. His eyes closed and everything went black.

-

Aziraphale’s eyes opened and shut as he felt himself lifted. Was he flying? But no, he was on his back, being carried in protective arms. He could feel the pace of his rescuer’s steps, strong and sturdy. A deep voice whispered comforts he couldn’t understand. Feeling strangely safe, he passed out again.

-

The angel awoke in a simple farmhouse bed. The sunlight was creeping in through a cracked window and the birds were singing morning songs. He must have slept for hours. He looked down to find himself tucked in tightly under patchwork blankets. A glass of water was positioned on the table nearby.

He turned to his side and was amazed to see a mess of russet curls heaped on the pillow beside him. He stretched out a finger to draw back one of the ringlets concealing the sleeping face of his demon.

“Crowley,” he said so softly he wasn’t sure he’d said it at all. He gazed at the demon, so serene in this unconscious state he could have been an angel. What had he been like before his Fall?

Aziraphale took in the sharp cheekbones, the slight concentrated frown on the demon’s lips. He was so beautiful. Crowley must have felt the angel’s stare burning a hole in his face because he stirred then.

“You saved me,” Aziraphale said.

“Wha?” the demon dragged his chin up to look at the angel properly. “Neh.”

The angel’s eyes were bluer than ever in the early morning light. Crowley couldn’t stand to look into them and see the purity there. He closed his eyes to ward it off.

“Thank you,” Aziraphale breathed.

“Sh’ the fuck up,” Crowley grumbled. “You were in my way, n’thing more. Those two were on my list.”

“Ah,” the angel said, worrying the ring on his pinky. “So carrying me all the way here accomplished what other objective then?”

The demon’s hand slapped over the angel’s mouth. “I said shut it,” he demanded, but there was no malice in it. Aziraphale considered his options carefully before something hopeful stirred inside of him. Quickly, he pressed a warm kiss to the demon’s palm and waited.

Crowley drew his hand back very, very slowly, staring at the inside of his hand as if it had been burned. A flash of anxiety in his eyes. “Why’d you do that?” he half croaked. He had propped himself up on his elbows to study the angel for any sign of artifice.

Aziraphale blinked. “Because I wanted to.” He curled in closer to the demon almost imperceptibly, but Crowley was tracking his every movement. Eventually the angel’s head was resting right next to the demon’s, red and white halos of hair intertwined.

Aziraphale reached up and traced his thumb over Crowley’s pert lower lip. On instinct, the demon flicked out his tongue to taste the angel, pulling a soft sigh from the blonde. It couldn’t be ascertained who leaned in first, but two pairs of lips found one another and pressed, just barely.

This was beyond outside of their comfort zone, so why did it feel so right? Why did Crowley’s hand tangling gently in the angel’s curls send a wondrous shiver down Aziraphale’s spine? Why did the redhead relax into the kiss and pull the angel closer? Most importantly, why wasn’t this immediately devolving into raunchy sex as usual? Perhaps some things are ineffable.

The angel pulled back first, but only to look deeply into the demon’s serpentine eyes. They sparkled with amber and tiny green flecks he’d never noticed. Aziraphale struggled to keep his eyes open. To greedily drink in the sight of the demon, but he was failing miserably. Exhaustion wrestled him back to slumber.

When he awoke, Crowley was gone.


	5. 1960s United Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reading through the comments. Some of you are on to me. XO

The Swinging 60s deserved the epithet, but a hip neighborhood known as Soho deserved all the credit. It was here that Mod fashion blossomed, sex shops proliferated like weeds, and espresso shops first became a ‘thing.’ All that said, the night life was a gas, and the prime spot was Madame JoJo's, the international hub of fringe culture.

Aziraphale caught an eyeful everytime he walked by the club on his way to Mr. Harry’s, his favorite Chinese restaurant. Certainly there had been times when he’d lingered as well, trying to look inconspicuously disinterested each time. It was a sinful venue, and surely an angel had better things to-

The angel came to a halt, dropping containers of his beloved takeaway on the ground. It was still early evening, but he could see clearly into the club’s main room where a very drunken demon was positively grinding against a muscular blonde man. Aziraphale clenched his fists and stormed inside, waving the velvet rope aside as several onlookers complained to the bouncer, who was miraculously clueless.

The angel didn’t stop until he had the back of Crowley’s turtleneck in his hand. Swiftly he yanked the demon outside and pushed him against a wall in the alley.

“What the devil are you doing in Soho?” Aziraphale demanded. It wasn’t exactly the question he wanted to ask but it would do for now.

Crowley’s eyes widened in confusion. Aziraphale’s grip on his jacket was vice-like. “I’m in lots of places all the time. Now’s no different. General temptations and the like…”

“Ah ha!” the angel gasped accusingly. “And I suppose you’ll tell me that...flash piece of ass in there was your next assignment?”

Crowley’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous sign, “If he is...?”

“Then I’m here to thwart you!” Aziraphale said grandly. His smug face sent Crowley over the edge.

The redhead glared down at the angel, a spiteful smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “And if he isn’t?” 

Aziraphale’s eyes turned fearsomely black as he raised his fingers in the air and snapped. When an amorous couple stumbled into the alley a few seconds later they were delighted to find it empty.

Crowley found himself stark naked and restrained on his stomach in an unfamiliar bed. His arms and legs were tied to each of the four surrounding bedposts. A ball gag had been rudely miracled into his mouth.

“Mmph!” he protested angrily.

The angel was standing before him looking utterly composed. He fingers interlaced and resting on his stomach.

“I warned you in New York,” he said hollowly. “Don’t underestimate me, my dear. Don’t you recall? But you just couldn’t listen, could you? And look at you now…humbled and prone for me. I could do anything to you.” The angel walked around the bed and Crowley’s narrowed eyes followed him for as long as he could, but eventually he moved out of range behind him. The demon could hear strange noises, metallic and also soft, as if the angel was digging through a drawer.

“But don’t worry,” Aziraphale continued. “We’ll set you to rights. I really can’t have you disobeying me...sassing me, Crowley. What would Heaven think if I can’t even control a minor demon?”

Crowley objected at the word ‘minor’ with a muffled grunt. He inhaled sharply as he felt the angel’s fingers trailing up his leg, from ankle to thigh and then gone again. A cold sensation dripped down his crack and toward his hole, which Aziraphale rubbed at tentatively. The demon let out a startled but intense groan.

“Have you seen all the shops around here?” the angel asked. “Some of them are quite exquisite. They stock the most...interesting objects. I think you might like this one.”

Aziraphale slid a plug inside the demon, easing it in and out before eventually allowing it to stay put. Crowley moaned in appreciation and rubbed himself against the bed. A leather flogger hissed on his skin in response. It didn’t hurt, but it was enough to get the demon’s attention.

“No,” the angel said roughly. “You’re not to do that. I won’t allow it.” He came to stand in front of the demon with a dark smile on his lips. “Do you understand?”

Crowley nodded emphatically but looked pained.

“You’ll get off when I say,” Aziraphale promised. “If I say.” The demon looked disheartened at that.

“Now then, where we’re we? Ah, yes!” The angel snapped his fingers and the plug began to vibrate, sending unchecked pleasure through the demon’s body. All the muscles on his back and legs strained in the effort to remain still. And then suddenly he knew exactly what the angel was doing. His eyes snapped up to the angel’s coy grin, flogger in hand swishing from side to side.

Aziraphale bent down at eye-level with the redhead, stroking his hair. It had been cut into a shaggy bob popularized by the Beatles. The angel hated it. He pulled hard, jerking the demon nearer to his face.

“I’m going to take this out of your mouth now,” he explained, indicating toward the gag. “And when I do you’re to answer my questions and say nothing else. Is that understood?”

Crowley nodded twice. Aziraphale removed the obstruction and allowed the demon to stretch out his mouth as well.

“Now then,” the angel began. “Was it business or pleasure?”

Crowley blinked, forgetting the reference. The angel snapped his fingers and the vibration in his ass kicked up a notch. The redhead stuttered, gasping as he willed his body to stay put. But oh, he wanted to move. Aziraphale could read the desperation in his eyes.

“The guy at Jojo's,” the angel reminded him.

The demon stared back at him, half out of his mind with want. If only he could get some friction. “Business,” he choked out. His hands were digging into the sheets.

“Hm. I don’t think I believe you,” Aziraphale said coldly. He snapped his fingers again. The intensity of the vibration was at its highest point. Crowley’s eyes were tearing up, but still, he didn’t move. He couldn’t break his promise to the angel.

Aziraphale stood and walked around the demon’s body, trailing the tails of his flogger over naked flesh. “How long have you been fucking him?” the angel demanded.

“Haven’t!” Crowley gasped. “Assignment...corruption. But not with me. Was...warming him up, about to send him...toward the target.”

“You expect me to believe a demon’s word?” the angel countered. His hand fell down to knead Crowley’s small but pert ass.

“Please,” the demon sputtered. “Have to move!”

“You know the rules,” Aziraphale stated. He came back to face the demon, squatting to his level. “Now then, perhaps you’ll answer another question of mine.”

Crowley looked into his eyes and saw him hesitating. The cold BDSM facade was melting away. Aziraphale cleared his throat.

“How many have you had since me?” He was trying to maintain a cool demeanor but there was a distant pain out at sea in the blue. Crowley breathed out sharply. When he spoke again, his voice was clear and insistent.

“None.”

The angel softened, sweeping forward to arrest the demon’s lips in a long, passionate kiss. Crowley began to groan in earnest.

“Ah, yes,” Aziraphale said, suddenly remembering. He jumped onto the bed and delicately removed the toy, but he didn’t release the demon from his bonds. Instead, he pushed his own aching cock inside and commanded, “Move.”

Crowley fucked at the sheets with abandon, his scrambled movements snapping his hips back to the angel who ground him back down while gripping his sides. The noises Crowley was making were patently obscene, and the angel couldn’t help but groan along. His satisfaction at the demon’s answers was nominally better than the incredible sex.

Crowley couldn’t last long, but strained in finality as he ejaculated, Aziraphale riding him to his own completion shortly after. The two lay breathing in pink-fleshed heaps on the bed. The angel snapped his fingers at last, allowing the demon to move again. To his intense shock and surprise, Crowley tangled against his torso like a child clinging for warmth or comfort.

Aziraphale immediately moved his arms over the trembling redhead, kissing the top of his forehead just so.


	6. 1970s Australia

Aziraphale had managed to wring a small break out of his rigorous blessing schedule to attend one of the first shows at the newly christened Sydney Opera House. Dressed in his usual Victorian garb he decided to spruce up the look by trading out his cream jacket for one that could hold a smart looking tartan pocket square.

He arrived in the private box he’d booked through a tiny miracle and settled in to watch Dido and Aeneas. He smiled when the orchestra began, remembering the first time he’d seen the opera in the late 17th century. It still held its same power over him, and left him breathless at every turn.

The first few acts went by more quickly than he’d remembered, but the story of Dido and Aeneas’ tragic love shook him to his core. Perhaps his feelings had been compounded by a certain demon, but he would never admit as much to himself. Theirs was a strict and particular type of arrangement, mutually beneficial and satisfactory as it was. Yes, of course.

At last the third act began and the angel trembled, his heart turbulent with emotion. Dido began her final aria “When I am laid in earth.’ Her beloved had abandoned her and she now made a pyre ready to take her own life.

He was so lost in the music that he hardly registered the presence of another taking a seat behind him, but he definitely felt the soft nuzzle that whispered against his neck. He could smell the sweet spice of Crowley’s hair and stroked it as it fell over his shoulder. A tear fell down the angel’s cheek and he felt it kissed away.

At the same time one hand moved possessively around the blonde's throat, holding him still. The other fell down and traced over Aziraphale’s vest buttons, eliciting a shock of excitement when it edged lower. The angel closed his eyes and drowned in the sensation as the aria played distantly. Crowley’s fingers unsnapped the angel’s trousers and sank down into his hot lap, curling around his thick cock.

“Angel,” a breath ghosted over his cheek.

Aziraphale inhaled sharply as the demon worked him slowly. His motions were so different than they had ever been before. A strange notion came to the angel that Crowley was making love to him with his hand.

The redhead stroked him with alternating grips for several minutes. Theater-goers in adjacent boxes were too distracted by the show to glance over.

At last, the demon began urging the angel toward the finish, moving faster now. The music came to a crescendo and suddenly the demon’s was in front of him. His mouth was on him, sucking off the orgasm that caused the angel to spasm in his seat. After the song ended, the audience stood to cheer, but Aziraphale could only look down at Crowley in wonder.

The demon fixed the angel’s trousers and they stood, lingering in the soft applause as they gazed into each other’s eyes meaningfully.

“Hotel,” Aziraphale stated. Crowley nodded in response.

-

They checked into the closest 5 star with no reservation, yet somehow the luxury suite was available. They hadn’t stopped holding hands since they left the theater, and the air between them practically sparked. Something new under the surface as well. A warmth that was both tender and astonishing.

Inside their room, the angel led them to the bed and sat heavily. “I want to see you,” he said quietly, and the demon knew instinctively he wasn’t talking about nudity, although there was that as well. Crowley snapped his fingers, vanishing his clothing. His uncircumsized penis was soft and patient. Sex would wait. He closed his eyes in concentration until his great black wings broke forth, sending a rush of sweet-smelling air toward the angel.

“Ohh,” Aziraphale admired him. He stood to trace a few fingers over the long arc of Crowley’s outer left wing. “So beautiful,” he murmured. The demon actually blushed. Aziraphale allowed himself to stroke harder, running a long caress from top to tip in reverent adoration. Crowley’s wing twitched and shuddered under his touch.

Aziraphale kneeled before him and buried his face in the demon’s wing while Crowley’s other wrapped around him, cradling him close. A tremor ran through the demon’s leg muscles when the angel kissed every inch of feather he could reach from his position on the floor. By now Crowley could not stave off the answering hardness that shifted the mood from spiritual to sexual. The moment burned in anticipation.

The angel stood to kiss his demon who accepted him eagerly. Their tongues brushed and revolved around each other as Aziraphale squeezed the shoulders of Crowley’s wings, eliciting a small gasp from the redhead.

Aziraphale drew back, but only to miracle his own clothing away. Crowley watched eagerly as the angel’s own wings emerged, quieter and more slowly than the demon’s. They were a bright downy white that drew in the light of the room like a beacon. Crowley found himself drawn forth as well. He moved around to hug the angel from behind, burying his nose in the perfection of those wings. He breathed in deeply and groaned, unable to stop himself.

Aziraphale sighed in return, his pulse deepening to a dull roar in his ears. They stood that way forever until Crowley finally moved his hands back, pulling at the angel’s wings and pulling them to their maximum span. Aziraphale moaned at the luxurious stretch.

When Crowley spoke his voice was rough. “Angel?”

Aziraphale turned toward him and took his hands, squeezing gently to prompt him to go on.

“Will you leave me in the end?”

The angel’s brows knit together and his heart fractured just a little. “In the end?”

The demon’s eyes cast to the floor and searched fruitlessly. “We can’t do this forever,” he said.

Aziraphale smirked faintly. “Why not?” he persisted.

“An angel and a demon…” Crowley managed.

“Yes,” the blonde answered, as if it were a very astute observation that held absolutely no consequence. “I keep thinking back to the first time. You couldn’t forget, my darling.”

The redhead peeked up at him with burning cheeks. He was ashamed. “What I did to you…”

Aziraphale leaned in and kissed Crowley’s neck. “What we did to each other,” he whispered. “You have no idea, do you? You brought me to life, Crowley. I never would have known if you hadn’t taken me the way you did. But I knew, the moment you pushed me up against the wall, I knew it.”

“I wasn’t trying to do something good,” the demon spat back, angrier at himself rather than the angel.

“No, my dear,” Aziraphale agreed. “You were doing something completely demonic. Forcing a poor, virgin angel into unspeakable acts. Only...I liked it. Won’t you do more?”

“You’re no ordinary thing,” Crowley said quietly. And then barely, “Wicked angel.”

“Only with you,” the blonde replied. With that he closed the final distance between them, driving their corporeal forms onto the bed.

Crowley moaned when their mouths reunited seemingly of their own accord. This kiss had meaning behind it, the angel knew. He kissed the demon back with all the care and devotion he could muster. Who else had ever understood him as he truly was?

They rested on their sides, running hands over skin and feathers, feeling totally complete in each other’s arms. Slowly, the demon lifted the angel’s thigh and settled it over his hip. In this position their slick cocks could caress one another, driven by the rocking of their bodies.

“Angel,” Crowley sighed. “My angel.” His tongue slurped at the blonde’s neck and wound around as he gently pushed the angel into a little spoon. From here Crowley could stroke Aziraphale while also aligning himself with the angel’s backside. He pressed inside, achingly slow while the blonde groaned and begged for more.

“I want this,” the demon breathed out. “For as long as I can have this I want it. I want you Aziraphale.” He slid into the angel until he bottomed out and held still, savoring the moment. Aziraphale wiggled back against him, silently pleading for him to move. Instead, Crowley worked unhurried over the angel’s cock. His grip was barely there as his fingers conducted up and down, up and down.

“Oh, fuck,” Aziraphale gasped. “Crowley don’t torture me.”

“Like you don’t deserve it?” the demon hissed. He vacillated so easily between hellish tempter and gentle lover. It drove the angel mad with desire. Aziraphale’s hand moved back and tangled in black feathers, pulling mercilessly. Crowley’s hips drove up and back in response, unable to control his reaction to the angel’s assault.

“I deserve it,” Aziraphale whined. “Make me feel it, Crowley. Ohhh my love.”

Crowley stuttered on the last word before redoubling his efforts, pumping into the angel at breakneck speed. His balls began to slap up against the blonde’s ass. They were both moaning, panting over one another really as they coupled. The angel drew off the demon’s hand from his cock to intertwine in his own, gripping it hard to his fast-beating heart. The motion, so simple yet so sweet was Crowley’s undoing.

“I’m coming,” the demon gasped, his breaths a hurricane over the angel’s soft curls. The angel managed to get off without frontal stimulation, and rode the wave as it breached over the pair of them. They clung to one another as if they had never been two separate things at all.

Crowley french kissed the back of the angel’s salty neck in lazy circles while his arm rested over the blonde’s side. Aziraphale was pinching and playing with his elegant fingers. Dido's song heavy on his mind.

“There’s no end to this,” the angel said out of nowhere. Crowley cocked his head to one side and waited. “You asked if I would leave you in the end but there is no end. Do you understand that?”

The redhead couldn’t accept the angel’s words of course. He mumbled incoherently into his pillow. Aziraphale turned in his embrace so they could face each other properly. A hand came up to drift through red locks.

“You said you would obey me,” the angel glared, but Crowley knew the angel wasn’t referring to the games they had played in the past, if one would call them that. No, they definitely wouldn’t. This wasn’t about sexual control anyways. Not with that look burning through blue eyes like passing meteors. The redhead nodded once to agree and show he was listening. The angel's voice was dark and uncompromising.

“I will never leave you. You’re my pet. My slave. My savior. You’re mine to command. If you even think about doubting me I will smite you. You’ve never known Hell but what I would unleash upon you.”

Crowley trembled and for the first time was afraid of his angel.

“Do. You. Understand.”

The demon nodded, his eyes wide. Aziraphale locked him into a bruising kiss before settling back in his arms contentedly, possessively. Crowley couldn’t deny that he felt the exact same way.


	7. 1980s London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little short for now.

“An angel...and a demon? I refuse to believe it… And you say they’ve been up to this for the last few centuries? Certainly not. I refute it outright. Even if Aziraphale is a little...off.”

“Archangel, you are not wrong to doubt it. I myself could not accept it until I saw with my own eyes. They were...holding hands.”

“Sandalphon, I must admit It’s hard to imagine, I’m sure you understand. But I expect you have proof of this...arrangement.”

“I’ll obtain the required evidence. But Gabriel…”

“What?”

“When I do… Can I be there for the deposition? I’ve always had a notion pertaining to the angel. I would dearly love to watch.”

Gabriel shivered as if someone had walked over his grave. Wasn’t that how the humans put it? “We shall see, Sandalphon. We shall see.”

-

Aziraphale sneered at the lineup. The Sex Pistols, truly? The Ramones...less offensive, ostensibly. The Buzzcocks? No comment.

“Don’t you have any normal records?” the angel huffed.

Crowley was standing behind him with his hands jammed into his tight plaid pants, overlooking the selection process. “Oh come on, these are classics, angel!”

Aziraphale snorted. “You only say that because you invented the genre.”

“How did you know?” Crowley crouched beside him, his Clash t-shirt so tattered he might as well have been topless. The angel could see one pert nipple peeking through behind the fabric, making his face flush.

“Tone deaf screaming was a dead giveaway,” Aziraphale frowned.

Crowley’s mouth was sneaking behind the angel’s ear, his breath hot. “Wait ‘til you see what I’ve got planned for the 90s,” he said lustily. “I’m going to call it Grunge.”

The angel stopped breathing, his eyes hooded. “You’re going to name a genre of music after dirt?”

Crowley’s arm came around to encircle the blonde’s plump stomach. “Mm, yeah. Sloppy clothing. Lazy vocals. Raucous guitars. I’m going to tempt all the musicians to stop washing their hair.”

“Vile thing,” Aziraphale whispered back. He turned his head and was treated to the sight of the demon leaning back, his fingers unzipping his fly in brazen invitation, which the angel took immediately. Crowley was a feast and the blonde was insatiable.

The demon’s cock sprang forth like a miracle in itself, and the angel engulfed it effortlessly. There was nothing he loved more than to sink down as if bidden, to be directed and follow the stage marks laid out for him. Anything to please the lithe redhead.

When Crowley arched his back Aziraphale knew he was following the instructions correctly. Sort of like the assembly of Ikea furniture, first foreign in its pictograms but infinitely more rewarding when all of the pieces align. And his tongue was the hex key.

Crowley had preferences, of course. All the things he liked best and Aziraphale accommodated, lathing up the middle of his ballsack or sucking the tip of his erection exclusively, but the angel also liked to experiment. Innovate, really. There might be some new pleasure, in fact, and Aziraphale would be loathe to miss an opportunity to exalt his lover.

Perhaps it had to do with the intoxicating taste of the demon. Aziraphale rejoiced in the salty spurts that caressed the sides of his palette. A sacarrine gift at the tip of his tongue. The angel was ever a gourmet, and Crowley his provincial dish.

“Angel,” Crowley said desperately. Aziraphale met his eyes to find the redhead utterly wrecked, but there was something else there. A neediness, an unvoiced desire. Aziraphale pulled off but kept his hand on the demon, stroking softly.

“What is it, my darling? What do you need?”

Crowley was holding back. His eyes tearing with the effort to explain. “Tell me...tell me I’m good.”

Aziraphale’s face melted into the most compassionate and knowing look. “My darling. My darling how I dote on you, don’t you know? You’re better than good. Good is for Heaven and people who have something to prove. You don’t have to prove anything to me, because I know your heart and your spirit are both exemplary. You are laudable my love.”

The redhead sank back, letting his head touch the floor before dissolving into absolute bliss. “Zira…” he whispered.

Aziraphale’s mouth returned to the demon’s cock and hummed appreciatively. Crowley was immediately undone, and pulsed into the angel as if Heaven and Earth depended on it.

-

Later that evening Crowley gave the angel a lift home and waved him off into the bookshop. As he departed the wheels screeched and the redhead peeled out of sight, making Aziraphale rest a hand on his stomach and chuckle fondly. “Speed demon,” he said to himself.

He let himself in, hardly noticing the presence of someone watching him from across the block. It had started to rain, but the man in the trenchcoat simply pulled up his hood. Aziraphale imagined he must be waiting for a friend or perhaps a taxi, and took little to no notice of the matter.

On the other side of the street, Sandalphon grinned. He was off to a good start.


	8. 1980s London Pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> F Yeah

Sandalphon liked to watch. He’d always had a kink for the angel, but under the demon’s hands the pudgy blonde was even more enticing. Sandalphon would often sit across the street at Crowley’s flat, watching through the large tripartite windows of the contemporary building. The two were like clockwork, and prodigious in their desires. There was hardly a time when they were not fucking.

Sandalphon knew he was supposed to be gathering evidence, but he often lost himself in the game. He liked to imagine doing all the same things to the angel’s body, but while Crowley watched on helplessly. A frigid smile adorned his face at the thought. All he needed was a few minutes alone once both were captured. He imagined the demon bracing against his chains, pinned to the wall and useless for all his rage as Sandalphon fucked the writhing angel from behind. Perhaps he’d even throw Crowley a bone after all. An excellent addition to the blonde’s torture.

Fuck, he was hard just thinking about it. And if he wanted to reach his goal he’d need verification. He fished out a camera and tried to recall the tutorials he’d watched online. It should be simple enough. He aimed the lens at the open window while the shutter clicked over and over again.

-

Aziraphale wasn’t one to redefine things that had pre-existing definitions. He was, for the most part, a rule-follower. Anyone outside of himself set boundaries, decided the course, laid lines in the sand, etc. But not when it came to a certain redhead.

They had, in and out, over the years, revealed themselves to one another. Conversations few and far between more carnal situations had been enough to warrant a precise level of revelation, and to that end, realization of one another. If Aziraphale had a mind to, he would have applied a label like “boyfriend,” or “significant other,” or even “soul mate.” While he was loathe to calculate the mental work, the bond between them remained if not persisted. There was no doubt, wherelse all doubts remained, that he was in love.

He often speculated about telling Crowley how he really felt. Perhaps he would confess in the middle of some sordid activity, so that he could deny it later... Maybe he’d make a grander gesture with flowers and a great deal of planning, but that fell flat in actuality. How do you tell someone who is monumental to your existence that they are the Sublime? To an angel this is simple enough...beings of love and all that, it’s already out there. To declare this to a demon? Complications arise.

Aziraphale sighed heavily as he waited for Crowley to arrive. The demon had kept insisting on the banality of the event, leading the angel to assume it was likely something more meaningful, and it was, quite naturally.

Crowley escorted him to the botanical garden, in fact. It was a moonlit fundraiser in honor of the newly built conservatory, a glass cathedral for the Royal Botanic Garden. They strolled arm in arm through an emerald jungle sprawling with an array of flora, each more striking than the last.

It was here that Crowley knelt down in front of the angel while crowds of people walked by unawares. If anyone had been looking, they might have imagined soft words exchanged and a vow or two made in earnest. When the demon stood they wrapped their arms around one another and sighed into the infinite bond of time eternal. When they left, they were one rather than two.

They stumbled back into the bookshop, drunk more on each other than the few glasses of champagne they had enjoyed at the garden. They were perhaps too preoccupied to notice a tertiary presence waiting in the shadows.

The first sign that something was wrong was when Crowley went to the ground within the first few feet of the entrance. Aziraphale laughed until he realized the demon was unable to stand, and squinted suspiciously at the chalk lines drawn upon the floor.

“What’s-” was all he was able to utter before finding himself grasped and lifted from behind. He sensed the stronger angelic being before he heard the words that bound him in superior powers. His body went limp.

Sandalphon dragged the angel over to the desk and sat him into a chair while the demon looked on uselessly.

“Oh,” Sandalphon remarked as if first seeing the redhead. “Terribly sorry about the sigil. I couldn’t have you making trouble during the interrogation.”

“Interrogation?” the blonde asked weakly, his eyes wide with fear. “What’s the meaning of this Sandalphon?” He looked up at Metatron’s twin brother with barely contained tremors rolling through his body.

“I think you know,” Sandalphon answered. “And I’ll ask you to not insult my intelligence.” He unwrapped a folio and littered out several photographs of the angel and demon together, making the blonde wince.

Crowley tried to speak but his vocal chords did not respond. He remained on all fours, gasping into the void.

“A simple confession will speed the process,” Sandalphon continued, bending at the waist to stroke Aziraphale’s cheek. “But please don’t. You know how I enjoy my work.”

The blonde trembled but spoke bravely. “I don’t know what you mean. My assignment on earth is to protect the humans while thwarting the enemies of Heaven. Crowley has proved a wiley adversary and I’ve adopted an arrangement with him to keep his evil doing at a minimum. There’s little else to uncover.”

Sandalphon actually laughed and directed his gaze toward the demon. “Is that so, Crowley?” he asked. “A mere arrangement to keep good and evil in check? But what’s this trinket on your hand, then?”

The tall angel approached and peered down at the redhead’s left ring finger. “Why it matches the one Aziraphale wears to a “t,” wouldn’t you say? This seems a little more than an arrangement. Could the two of you have promised something more significant to one another?”

“Of course not!” the blonde bluffed. “It’s a coincidence, that’s all. I don’t expect you to understand earthly fashions.”

Sandalphon couldn’t have looked more pleased when he situated himself behind the angel, grasping at his hips. “I must admit I’m behind,” the tall angel said evenly. “But there are a few things I’ve learned here on earth. Did you know that acts of love aren’t all symbolic? Some are expressed with the flesh. I’ve been dying to try.”

He picked up the angel and threw him over the shop’s writing desk and began to grope over the blonde’s body. “I’ve always fancied you, you know,” Sandalphon leered down at him. “But I never thought I’d get the chance to consummate my desires. You don’t think he’ll mind, do you?”

Crowley watched coldly from his circle on the floor, but there was something poisonous in his gaze. He twitched slightly but said nothing. Aziraphale's eyes flew toward him, imploring.

“I’d hoped as much,” Sandalphon said as he trailed his hands up Aziraphale’s hard thighs and plump ass, squeezing hard over his clothing.

“You can’t mean to-” Aziraphale choked out. “But you’re an angel like me! We don’t- You mustn’t!”

Sandalphon found the zip to the angel’s trousers and yanked them summarily to his ankles, smiling lewdly. “Mustn’t I?” he mocked. “And miss out on the absolute treat of you?”

A dark voice echoed from the circle, drawing the tall angel’s attention back to Crowley. “Don’t. Touch. Him.”

Sandalphon flinched. It shouldn’t be possible for the demon to speak within his binding circle. He checked the wards and found they were airtight. “Nevertheless,” Sandalphon scowled, and slowly moved to the waistband on Aziraphale’s underwear.

A sharp red light blew out of the chalk circle, and Sandalphon wrenched his eyes toward the demon. His teeth had grown into sharp fangs while his fingers were now deadly talons that dug into the floor.

“There...there’s nothing you can do,” Sandalphon breathed uncertainly.

For the first time since their arrival back to the shop, the demon actually smiled. His talons ripped deeply into the wood, splintering the connected white lines that kept him bound. Sandalphon choked in surprise as Crowley stood to his full height and merely flicked away the mangled wards surrounding him. The demon had transformed into half man, half snake, a hideous vision to behold. The scent and heat of hellfire and brimstone filled the room.

“There is one thing,” Crowley hissed as he drew near. Sandalphon’s distraction released the angel, who scurried to right himself and his attire before looking up in amazement at the demon.

He was now nose to nose with the despicable angel, a cloud of black smoke flowing like a river around their forms. Sandalphon was trying to escape but could not. The redhead eyed him hungrily.

“What?” Sandalphon shot back, full of empty bravado. “I’m an angel of Heaven! There’s nothing you can do to me!”

Crowley giggled, a twisted half-version of humor. He bent his neck to whisper in the angel’s ear. “I can drag you to fucking Hell.” With that, he sank his fangs into Sandalphon’s neck and speared his talons into the angel’s round torso, bleeding fire and smoke as the ground opened beneath them. Sandalphon’s screams reverberated around the room but quickly shrank into a sharp whine that dissipated like air escaping a bloated balloon.

Aziraphale sat frozen on the spot as the floor quickly righted itself, leaving behind only one long white feather to tell the tale.


	9. 1980s London Pt. III

Aziraphale wasn’t sure how long he stood staring at the spot on the floor where Crowley and his victim had vanished. The wooden slats appeared undisturbed, daring him to believe he’d imagined it all. But the place where Crowley had been bound told another story. Ragged claw marks had made short work of the elegant flooring. The angel snapped his fingers to remove the damage.

He sighed heavily and couldn’t stop the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Not even a few hours ago had been the happiest time of his life. How had it all gone to Hell, quite literally, right before they’d had a chance to celebrate?

The ring around his finger felt heavy. He reached out to stroke it and immediately was brought back to Crowley’s words in the gardens.

“It’s been a long time,” he had said. Aziraphale gave him a little smile.

“What’s been a long time?” the blonde asked.

“How long I’ve loved you, so completely,” Crowley said. Aziraphale stopped walking, partially because he was caught off guard and partially because the demon had planted himself on his knees before the angel. Crowley clasped Aziraphale’s hand and kissed it tenderly.

“Oh, Crowley,” the angel’s voice wobbled. He looked down at the redhead like he was the only thing that mattered in the universe.

“I wanted to tell you here. I watched you in the garden in the beginning, but I never looked like anything other than a mere snake, just another of God’s creations as far as you were concerned. But I observed your tenderness with the mortals, your gift to them after they were forced to leave. I knew you weren’t ordinary. I created a place for you in my heart then, but I didn’t know what it meant.” Crowley smiled at the memory.

“Later and throughout time I kept tabs on you. Always leering from around some corner or from a higher vantage point. The more I watched, the more that feeling grew inside me. All of your good deeds were accompanied by small indulgences. I loved to watch you be bad, for an angel that is, by eating luxurious delicacies or lazily wasting an afternoon reading in the park. You were more human than angel, just as I was more human than devil. But it was in London that I knew my desires concerning you were darker. I wanted to feel you. I wanted to intertwine with you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you until the day we met, and as soon as I beheld you face to face, I couldn’t control my demonic impulse to have you.”

Crowley squeezed the angel’s hand and dragged his mouth over the knuckles. “And I did. Again and again I sated my lust for you, I told myself it was torture or punishment but I knew deep down how much you liked it. The incident in the 30s proved that, didn’t it love?”

Aziraphale didn’t suppress his nod of agreement.

“You bound me that evening, but in ways you couldn’t have imagined or seen with your eyes. I didn’t just want to fuck you anymore. I wanted to protect you, watch over you, worship you. I was terrified when you left for the war to defend Poland, so I haunted your every step, ready to intervene at any time.”

“And you did,” the angel reminded him.

“I never thought you would reciprocate my feelings as they had developed into something so much deeper. I’d never dared to hope until you kissed my hand in that lonely cottage. I ran away as soon as you fell asleep just in case you’d wake to realize your mistake. But when you apprehended me in Soho…”

A flash of jealousy curled in the angel’s stomach, but it vanished just as quickly. “Yes, my love?”

“That’s when I knew I wanted to be possessed by you, absolutely. If you’d written out a script I would live by those words. Whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted forever.”

“And then there was Sydney,” the angel smiled warmly.

“Yes,” Crowley said thoughtfully. “It was then that I almost gave you this, but I was too afraid.”

The demon removed his grip from the angel’s hand and Aziraphale noticed the sparkle glinting off of his wedding finger. A platinum band with one tiny diamond embedded in the surface.

“Crowley,” the angel whispered.

The demon stood and held Aziraphale’s face in his hands. “You and I have lived amongst the mortals for so long, it just seemed appropriate. If you like it...if you want me the way I want you.”

The blonde melted into Crowley’s arms and they embraced. “My love,” Aziraphale cried into his shoulder. He snapped his fingers and the demon found a ring on his own finger, a duplicate of the angel’s but with black tungsten carbide. Nothing else needed to be said.

Aziraphale snapped back to reality at the sound of someone gasping in pain. He launched himself over the couch and into the back room where the ragged demon had appeared. His clothes were burnt in several places and soot clung to his hair. The scent of brimstone was overwhelming.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cried out as he knelt down and cradled his head. “Are you alright? Tell me what happened!”

“M’fine,” the redhead said through a fit of coughs. “Just had to drop someone off.” Through his weariness the demon still managed a small smile.

Aziraphale yanked Crowley up and into his arms, eliciting a groan. “But you’re sure you aren’t hurt?” the angel asked anxiously. “You seem unwell!”

“When I broke the circle…” Crowley wheezed.

“The circle! Of course! How in the world did you...oh fuck! No! What did you trade?”

The redhead attempted a grin. “I didn’t have any angelic grace left to offer. So we made another deal.”

“You shouldn’t have done that. Regardless of what Sandalphon did to me! Damn it Crowley!”

The demon shrugged. “Well he was an important part of the deal. Turns out Satan likes the idea of an angel collection. Sandalphon didn’t seem particularly keen, however.”

Aziraphale laughed despite himself before darkening again. “That’s not everything, is it?”

“No,” Crowley admitted. “I had to give up a significant amount of my powers afterward. It’s temporary, but you might have an invalid on your hands for a while.”

Aziraphale held him tighter. “All that matters now is keeping you safe. Heaven is going to have some questions about how this went down, but we’ll figure it all out later. For now, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Aziraphale gently picked up the demon and walked him to the bathroom on the second level. He prepped the tub and filled it with lovely scented oils and rose petals, which made Crowley roll his eyes a little. He appreciated it more once he’d been undressed and felt his body sink into the healing water. Aziraphale had miracled the tub to make it large enough to accomodate Crowley’s long body.

The demon’s eyes sank closed at the feeling of the angel’s hands running over his arms and legs, washing the grime and some of the psychic pain away. Aziraphale poured water over the crown of his head and massaged shampoo over his scalp while whispering vows of love and encouragement. At one point he seemed finished with his ministrations and Crowley cocked an eye at him mischievously.

“You didn’t get everywhere,” he hinted.

“You’re not overly tired?” the angel asked uncertainly.

In response, Crowley captured Aziraphale’s hand and guided him down through the water until his fingers could curl around the demon’s hard length. “Just like that,” the redhead breathed as his eyes fluttered closed again.

Aziraphale leaned forward to kiss the redhead while continuing to stroke steadily beneath the surface of the water. At some point Crowley grew impatient with the water’s resistance to the gliding feeling he preferred. He vaulted up straight-armed and stood while water poured off of his body. Aziraphale stared at the perfection of his nudity before grabbing a bottle of oil and generously coating the demon’s strained erection.

“Fuck,” Crowley gasped as he jerked into the angel’s fist. His own hands went into his damp red hair, pulling at the roots. His gaze was locked on Aziraphale’s. “I want to come inside you,” the demon stated hungrily. He sprang out of the tub and pushed the angel to the ground on all fours, ripping off his pants before suddenly coming to his senses. It was exactly what Sandalphon was going to do mere hours ago.

Aziraphale sensed his hesitation. “Please, my love,” he said in a raspy voice. “You’re not him. I want you. I want this right now. Don’t make me wait.”

Crowley groaned and pushed into the angel in one smooth movement, only pulling back when he couldn’t stand it any longer. He pumped in and out while his left hand rested over Aziraphale’s back. The ring’s small black diamond glinted in the light. The thought of being connected to the angel in every way made him snap his hips forward faster and harder. If he could, he would consume his angel, just to feel closer.

“Yes, oh yes!” Aziraphale was coming undone. “Oh God Crowley. I love you!”

Crowley came almost immediately. He struggled to grab the angel’s erection to bring him over the edge before he went soft inside of him. Despite having lost most of his miracling abilities, Crowley was able to finish the job in time. Both men sank to the floor and wrapped their arms around one another as they caught their breath.

“Love you Zira,” Crowley said when he was able. “You’re all I need.”

The blonde reached up to stroke his cheek and smiled fondly.


	10. 1990s South Downs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't fuck with Aziraphale.

It would take five years for Crowley’s powers to be restored, and another ten before Heaven realized it was missing one of its own. In the meantime Aziraphale made the best of his demon’s inoperative state and rented a two-story cottage straight out of an Austen novel.

In the morning Crowley would garden while Aziraphale brewed strong cups of earl grey and read cozily by the window. In the afternoon they would drive into town or take picnics in the surrounding countryside. In the evening they made love and talked about all the things that had happened in their time apart. Eventually Crowley would shuffle off to bed and leave Aziraphale to finish the second half of whatever book was propped up in his lap. The blonde would wait until he saw the bedroom light turn off and shut his book surreptitiously, because this was when he strategised.

For Aziraphale the waking day was when he dreamed. He was literally living out a fantasy life with his demon that could be taken away from him at any moment. So night was for facing that harsh, cold reality. And creating the plan.

Aziraphale spent hours pouring over every eventuality. They all began the same way, of course, with Gabriel contacting him either in person or by missive to inquire about Sandalphon. The Hellbound angel had very likely informed the Archangel of his plans to investigate Aziraphale and Crowley, so naturally the first stop would be the two of them. But what would happen next?

Aziraphale had a series of meticulous flowcharts he updated regularly. In one scenario he merely played dumb about the missing angel. He hadn’t seen Sandalphon in centuries. Even if Gabriel bought the act Aziraphale doubted he would leave it there. Eventually the inquiries would stretch beyond the mortal realm and Hell’s captive would be located. All it would take was one word from Sandalphon to reveal the truth. Then again, this was assuming Sandalphon hadn’t been driven mad in Hell’s grasp. The blonde shuddered at the thought.

In another scenario Aziraphale might relate the events as they happened with certain alterations. Sandalphon had come across the demon Crowley while he was fighting with Aziraphale and had been dragged to Hell in the process. But then, why wouldn’t have Aziraphale reported these events immediately? There wasn’t a good explanation for that, other than memory loss or some other enchantment, and to what end?

In every case, Aziraphale knew he would stand trial in front of the holy court. Their justice was swift and unmerciful. To fall would be one thing, and wholly survivable. But then, they might simply blink him out of existence and be done with it.

The blonde’s shoulders sagged as he ruminated on the problem. He was so absorbed he hadn’t noticed a sleepy demon coming up from behind him, and by then it was too late to hide his work.

“What’s all this?” Crowley’s voice was strangled as he fingered a page of notes. Aziraphale merely looked up at him with some kind of relief etched into his features. Hiding all of this from the redhead had been exhausting.

Crowley plucked up pages one by one until he’d reviewed them all, and sat heavily across the table with his fingers buried deep in his hair. “Should’ve known you’d be working on this,” the demon said warily. “I can’t deny that I haven’t been thinking about it. Obsessing, really.”

Aziraphale’s lips pressed together into a frown. “I don’t know how to fix it, my love. Perhaps you’ve had a better idea?”

Crowley nodded slowly. “I have. Just one. And you won’t like it.”

Aziraphale’s eyes fixed on the ring Crowley wore. “Tell me.”

“I’ll go back to head office,” Crowley stated. “Finish the job. Clean up the evidence.”

“No,” Aziraphale said softly. “No, no. Lucifer would destroy you. He would see it as a betrayal.”

Crowley swallowed hard. “I know.”

“You would never return to me,” Aziraphale’s eyes welled with tears. “What’s the point of all this if we lose one another?”

Crowley stood and knelt by his angel, confiscating his hands with his own and kissing them both. “You would be safe,” he explained. “That’s all that matters to me.”

“Selfish demon,” Aziraphale swore, pulling his hands away and going to stand at the window instead.

Crowley snapped his fingers and an elegant handkerchief appeared in the angel’s hand. He used it to dab at his eyes before turning around slowly. “Your powers have returned,” he noted, somewhat cheered by the revelation.

“Just small things,” the demon said shyly. “But it’s a start.”

Aziraphale was lost in thought for a few moments before approaching the demon with renewed energy. “There’s another way,” he said quickly, adding a quick smile. “And you’re definitely not going to like it. But we both live...at least I hope so.”

Crowley smirked. “I can’t wait to hear this…”

Aziraphale steeled himself and the demon knew instinctively that this would not be a conversation. The angel was set, and God help them all. “Take me to Hell,” the blonde demanded.

Crowley was expecting anything except that. He backed up to the wall and let it bear the brunt of his weight. “Never…” he whispered.

“But you will,” Aziraphale countered, brooking no argument. “You’ll trade me for Sandalphon. He will be broken, do you understand? He will return to Heaven but he will never truly return from his ordeal, you’ll make sure of it. When Gabriel comes for you, and he will come for you, you will explain that I took Sandalphon’s place, just as others will after me. Satan’s ploy is to addle the angel’s minds one by one. I discovered this while in deep surveillance, which is what aroused Sandalphon’s suspicions in the first place. Unfortunately when he began to tail me, you began to tail him. He made an impulsive move and you dragged him down, the first of many to come.”

“And why would Gabriel let me go after all of these confessions?” Crowley asked.

“Because you’re the only one who can bring me back before I’m driven to the same state as Sandalphon. You’ll make a deal with Heaven for your freedom after I’m returned,” Aziraphale explained.

“And then there will be Hell to pay, literally,” Crowley countered. “We’re back to square one.”

“No,” Aziraphale said. “I’ll deal with that. While you negotiate in Heaven I’ll be doing the same in Hell.”

“My lot doesn’t negotiate,” Crowley warned.

“Satan won’t want a war on his hands and you brought it to his door when you delivered Sandalphon,” Aziraphale argued. “Trading out for me will look like an upgrade but Heaven will see it as an escalation. He’s been too greedy in accepting your little gifts, and his judgement will be too clouded to realize the larger consequences.” He smiled, the corner of his mouth twitching in exhaltation.

“Your gambling with the fate of the world, angel!” Crowley nearly shouted. “This plan of yours could bring about the Apocalypse! Destroy millions of lives! Tear Heaven and Hell apart and for what?”

Aziraphale’s eyes narrowed and with a thought his wings unleashed. The power of the Almighty ebbed through his body as he pinned the demon against the wall. The light was so bright it burned Crowley’s skin.

“For us,” Aziraphale growled. “How quickly you forget! Didn’t I tell you there is no end? Well perhaps I should have elaborated.”

Crowley trembled even as the angel’s hands drifted up his arms in a gentle caress. He could barely stand to look into the blonde’s eyes. The blue was electric.

“If I lose you I will burn this world to dust. I will tear out the heart of Heaven with my teeth. I will flood Hell with my tears and bleach the bones of my enemies with the wrath of the Sun gone supernova. I will break apart space and time with a thought.”

Crowley whimpered against the wall. “You can’t do those things. You don’t have that power. Only God-”

Aziraphale squeezed his arms and smiled brightly. “God?” he asked, trying to hold back a laugh. “I’ll eat Her alive.”

Crowley gasped at the blasphemy, the sheer terror that buckled his knees. Aziraphale captured his open mouth and groaned into it, his hands moving madly over the demon’s lithe frame. He picked the demon up in one swift motion and miracled his way inside his shaking body. Crowley’s legs were wrapped around Aziraphale’s waist, taking each thrust like a punishment he’d basically begged for. He knew better than to question his angel. And to doubt him after everything they’d been through?

“Fuck!” Crowley cried out as the pace became more brutal. His head fell back and hit repeatedly against the wall. He knew he deserved this, and in the dark, deeply shadowed shred of a soul he’d retained through his fall, he wanted it more than anything. Tell me I’m bad. Tell me I’m good. Tell me you’ll use me up until there’s nothing left.

“Love you,” Crowley whined, his fingers pulling at blonde curls. Aziraphale’s face was buried in his neck.

“Then fucking act like it,” the angel swore as he bit down hard on Crowley’s shoulder.

The redhead screamed, his orgasm ripped from his bruised body for all he was worth. The angel continued to thrust despite protest until he came, his fingernails digging cruelly into Crowley’s taut thighs.

Rather than let Crowley down, Aziraphale carried his limp body to the bedroom and laid him down. He licked at the wound he’d created and whispered softly to the demon. Such tender words to counter the savagery. Such gentle touches to contradict his sadism.

Heaven used the term Principality to describe Aziraphale’s order and rank, but principalities are also described as supramundane powers often in conflict with God. Humans used the term to denote a small state under the rule of a larger empire, or a kingdom within a kingdom. Crowley contemplated all of these definitions as the angel slowly fell asleep beside him. States were known to rebel because power breeds resistance. His angel had only ever been recognized within a chain of command, constantly underestimated by Heaven and Hell. It would be their downfall.


	11. 2000s Paris

They took five years to plan it out, each day revisiting every nuance and detail. But eventually, the day arrived when Aziraphale received a summons from Gabriel. He held the letter in his hand and stared at Crowley with unwavering eyes.

“It’s time,” the angel had said.

Their hands were clasped as they sank lower into the cold depths of the catacombs. Crowley knew the way by heart and hardly needed the torch Aziraphale carried. They finally came to the gate, an old and rusted thing that looked completely innocuous yet was anything but. Crowley stared back at his angel, unwilling to move a step further. “Do you have to?” he begged.

Aziraphale nodded curtly. “We’ve been saying goodbye to each other for the last several years,” he stated. “It wasn’t for nothing.”

"Tell me you love me. Say everything will be okay," Crowley pleaded. His fingers were moving over blonde curls.

"I do love you, so much," Aziraphale answered, kissing his cheek. "And everything will be okay."

Crowley stepped back, steeling his nerves and his mind. With a snap of his fingers the gate swung open. An angel and a demon went inside.

-

Crowley twisted in his sheets fitfully. There had been flashes of fire all around. Satan’s deep laugh echoed in his ears. “You’ve brought me another gift…” Crowley cried out as his head rolled against his pillow. Sandalphon was screaming inside of his cage, clothes ripped and tattered, arms and legs covered in brands.

Aziraphale did not cry or show any sign of weakness, but instead cradled Sandalphon’s weight as the wreck of an angel was released from his bonds. The angel didn’t have to be concerned about his state of mind. It was quite clear that Sandalphon had become unhinged.

Crowley tried to smile as his angel, a white page fluttering out of book, was thrown inside the cell by Satan’s guards. Immediately they began to speak their dark words, tearing at the angel’s bright heart. He slumped down as if starting to recognize what this sacrifice would really mean, but he didn’t dare look up at his demon. Not now that they had come this far.

Crowley had to walk away. His explanation that Heaven had caught on to Sandalphon’s absence went easily enough. “I’ll bring you a new one when this meat grows stale,” he spat out. The words were like fire on his tongue. He had to escape this place or he would go mad himself watching his angel be tortured. And there was a second part to this plan after all. Best he carried on.

He’d almost gotten away when he heard Aziraphale’s first sob. It was always the last thing he heard before he woke up, screaming into the merciless night air.

-

Sandalphon contorted his body on the floor babbling nonsense words. The stream of incoherent mumbling was as annoying as it was disturbing. Crowley brooded by the fireplace for days before Gabriel bothered to show up. When he did, Crowley kicked at the inane angel so that he rolled across the floor toward the Archangel. Gabriel grimaced and stepped away before Sandalphon could touch him.

“What have you done?” the Archangel demanded.

Crowley merely raised his eyebrows. “Me? Nothing! I’m merely the delivery boy. Part of the new cruelty, you see. Lucifer’s plucking your angels up left and right. Do you wonder what kind of little games he likes to play with them?”

Gabriel stared down at Sandalphon and watched him suck his fingers, drool pooling on the ground. He glanced back up at Crowley with a hard expression on his face. “I will destroy you,” he threatened as he began to walk forward.

“Ah, ah,” Crowley interrupted even as he stood to his full height. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Sandalphon is only here because I traded him out for a better deal.”

Gabriel started and looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he grinned. Crowley took a step back, unnerved. “The angel Aziraphale,” Gabriel chuckled. “What in the world makes you think we want him back? You know our Sandalphon had quite a theory about him...and you.”

Crowley’s eyes became slits. “Sandalphon’s interference, and overall stupidity is what led directly to his downfall. I realized he would be easier prey than the Principality. But I’m leveling up now, yeah? Satan grows bolder and me with him. Who do you think I’ll take next, Gabriel?”

The man’s name in his mouth was putrid garbage. And his words did not fail to have an effect on the Archangel.

“These violations are an act of war,” Gabriel spat.

Crowley grew bolder. “Don’t be ridiculous. No, this is just another grievance. An annoying spot on the face of Heaven. Think about what your lot would say about you if they found out though, ay? I don’t think She would be happy to know you’ve been slipping in your custodial duties. How many angels has he lost now? But of course, She doesn’t have to know about any of this.”

Gabriel glowered, his face a mask of anger. “What do you want demon?”

Crowley smiled. “I’m quite lazy, me. This extra work is really starting to take its toll. I’d like to bugger out of it, truth be told. I’ll tell you what I’ll do for you. You can have this one,” he glared at Sandalphon on the floor. “And I’ll even waltz down to Hell to bring up the other. For my services, you’ll forgo any kind of Heavenly revenge against my person.”

“And your master would allow this?” Gabriel asked. “Why?”

“Because you’re going to send a little note with me explaining the larger implications,” Crowley replied. “A war between Heaven and Earth, just as you said.”

“But you said-”

“It’s absurd, yes. How good of you to remember.” Crowley couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “And that’s precisely it. You’ll play chicken with Satan because he will back down if threatened. Don’t forget how far he’s fallen. Any ideas of overthrowing Heaven are a masturbatory pipe dream and he knows it. And Hell for that matter, as far as you’re concerned. Until She decides otherwise.”

Gabriel nodded curtly and snapped his fingers, miracling a roll of parchment into the demon’s hand. “This is distasteful businesses, dealing with demons,” he shot off.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Crowley returned.

Gabriel disappeared, taking Sandalphon with him. Crowley dropped to the floor and carded his fingers through his hair. He wept out of sheer relief, but then remembered he had more important things to do. He needed to save his husband.

-

Crowley knocked on Lucifer’s door, a ludicrous affectation to make him seem more distant and unavailable. Not that he wasn’t. But his door was always open for Crowley, the late-blossoming apple of his eye. Unfortunately Crowley feared he wouldn’t love the messenger for much longer.

Lucifer was sitting at his desk, throwing small pieces of firey brimstone at the angel in his cage. Crowley had to force his legs to keep walking, to keep his head from turning toward Aziraphale.

“Crowley!” Lucifer nearly smiled. “Don’t tell me you come bearing more gifts? I can’t tell you how diverting this one has been. Maybe I’ll even have him. He’s quite the morsel.”

Crowley blanched and shoved the roll of parchment at his boss’ face. “Complications from above,” he mumbled. Lucifer unrolled the scroll and read it over in a bored manner before slamming it down on the desk. The fire burning behind his chair grew brighter, bringing the contrast in the room to near-blinding.

“This is...untenable,” Lucifer purred, regaining his decorum. “I’ve only just started to play and now I’m being told it has to stop. You know I hate it when others try to take my toys.”

Crowley’s stomach was in knots. He was glad his sunglasses protected the vicious glare behind them. “It’s most...irritating I imagine. But…” Crowley allowed himself to slink toward the desk and even leaned down on his arm. “Think of all the fun you’ve had already. I knew Heaven would get wise to us eventually, but it’s been a blast, right? Took you out of the daily grind for a bit?”

Lucifer’s face twitched, unreadable. “Of course I never thought they’d go nuclear,” Crowley continued. “A celestial battle? And over what?” He allowed himself to look at his angel for the first time. Aziraphale’s eyes were wide with fear. His fingers shook at the bars. It was enough to nearly break the demon.

“It is a lot of sound and fury,” Lucifer agreed. “And as much fun as it sounds, I’m not really prepared to take on the host of Heaven at the moment. I suppose I could find other entertainments.” He sighed loudly before looking at Aziraphale.

“But what say you angel?” he asked suddenly. Aziraphale jumped back and cowered in his cage.

“Oh for the love of,” Lucifer said irritably. “The madness is already taking hold.” He snapped his fingers and Aziraphale looked cognizant for the first time. “Now then,” Lucifer continued. “Would Heaven make good on these threats? Especially for a little speck of nothing like yourself?”

Crowley’s hands became tight fists at his sides. Aziraphale blinked twice. “Not for me,” he said softly. “Never for me.” Lucifer looked satisfied, but the angel went on. “They would do it for sport,” he said angrily. “To watch you fail. You said you’re not ready but they always have been. Since before the day you fell. She doesn’t need an excuse to come after you, but do you really want to give Her one?”

Crowley’s throat was so tight he thought he might choke, but somehow he got his own words out, fearing for the angel’s safety. “Cheeky. I can see why you like this one so much.” He held his breath, waiting for the tidal wave of Satan’s rage to subsume them all, but it didn’t.

Instead, he laughed, long and low. “It’s true,” he agreed. “What a fighter he is.” Suddenly the mood shifted and Lucifer was screaming. “AND THOUGH I HATE HIS TEMERITY...” He calmed again, brushing a hand through his raven hair. “I have to admit he’s right.”

Lucifer regarded Crowley evenly. “Take him back up, for all your troubles. Maybe one day he’ll return to me, quite unwillingly, of course. But I have all the time in the world, don’t I?” He smiled, baring too sharp teeth. Crowley bowed before moving to the cage and extracting Aziraphale.

“Right,” he huffed as he picked up the angel and held him like a bag of groceries. “I’m off then. Hail Satan and all that.”

“See you next time, Crowley,” Lucifer finished. He snapped his fingers and returned the pair to earth.

Aziraphale rolled out of his arms unexpectedly as they hit the floor of the bookshop, back safe and sound in London. Crowley was immediately on top of him looking for wounds.

“You stupid fucking bastard,” he was growling between kisses that peppered every revealed inch of skin. “Stupid fucking, and then you...oh yeah Satan you suck at battle, remember? Surprised he didn’t rip you out of existence for the thought! I swear to fucking-”

“Crowley,” the angel sighed weakly. Immediately the redhead’s eyes were piercing into Aziraphale’s.

“My love,” Crowley breathed. “My love are you hurt? Are you well? I can’t even look at the state of you.” His eyes were brimming with tears.

Aziraphale nodded. “We did it,” he said at last. “Just like I said.”

“Oh my god!” Crowley snarled. “You want me to admit you were right! Half roasted in Hellfire and you’re still the most unbelievable bastard!” His lips kissed at the ends of every fingertip as he held the angel’s hands.

Aziraphale chuckled tiredly. “Yes I am.”


	12. 2000s United States

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fin.

There had been a tentative follow-up plan in place should things go wrong, even if the coast looked clear. It was decided that the pair would split up and schedule only clandestine meetings as they had in the beginning. For his part, Aziraphale hid out in Montana where he posed as a simple wheat farmer. Crowley, quite naturally, went to Wall Street where he aggressively infiltrated the free market. They spent three years apart before Gabriel appeared to the angel while driving his tractor through an open field.

Aziraphale swerved, nearly mowing down his superior who had a habit of blinking into existence rather than phone ahead. With his heart in his throat, the angel jumped down from his heavy machinery and approached the archangel.

“What on earth are you doing here Aziraphale?” Gabriel demanded. He looked around at God’s expansive creation and sneered. A gnat flew up his nose in revenge.

The lesser angel watched his boss sputter and swat at his face, much to his enjoyment. He hid his smirk and raised his arm to shield his eyes from the sun. “Just convalescing,” Aziraphale replied. “You did give me a short reprieve after all. I thought I would spend some time in Her bounty. It’s been quite restorative.

“That’s great,” Gabriel said sarcastically. “But we do have work to do, you know. Have you been keeping tabs on that Crowley character?”

Aziraphale shook his head mournfully. “I’d rather avoid all that given my recent experiences.”

Gabriel smiled for the first time. “Well I’m afraid you’ll need to put your personal feelings aside. I’ve heard he’s starting trouble in Manhattan. The stocks are shifting so dramatically the global economy is about to crash. I need someone to keep their eyes on him, and you know his ways better than anyone.”

Aziraphale resisted the urge to grin. A direct command to spy on his husband. Definitely better than hanging out in a wheat field for the rest of all time. Of course, Gabriel thought this was a punishment more than anything. What a naive prick.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” Aziraphale lied, looking flustered. It was all he needed to push his superior over the edge.

Gabriel approached looking menacing. “But you will, Aziraphale. That’s an order. I want you to stick to him like a fly on that weird paper humans hang from their ceilings. Move in together if you have to, just don’t let him out of your sight.”

The blonde’s chest swelled with happiness, but he hid it well. “As you say, Gabriel,” he bowed his head sadly.

The archangel snapped his fingers and disappeared. Immediately Aziraphale started running toward his beat-up farmhouse, practically soaring over the ground in his haste.

-

Crowley kicked his feet up on his desk, admiring the shine of his Gucci wingtips. He lazily answered the phone in typical demon fashion, taking calls only to demand stockbrokers buy or sell certain stocks. His influence made the normally chaotic atmosphere even crazier, which he absolutely loved.

Not that he didn’t enjoy it for its own sake, but tearing apart the fabric of the global economy was also an insurance policy to bring his angel back to him sooner rather than later. He’d found numerous ways to cause trouble in the States but they hadn’t earned him Aziraphale yet. His latest foray was a bonified guarantee that Heaven would send the blonde to intercede.

His secretary buzzed the intercom on his phone to announce his next appointment, a representative from the financial oversight committee. Crowley scowled. He hated these frequent check-ins. They interrupted his otherwise seamless scheming.

“Send them in,” he groused. He left his feet on the desk out of spite.

He smelled him before he even opened the door, tentatively peeking into the room with a stern look on his face.

“Mr. Crowley,” the blonde said dryly.

The redhead shifted back in his seat and indicated toward one of the chairs in front of him. “Please take a seat.”

Aziraphale settled into the chair and dug through a worn leather briefcase before producing a set of papers. He rifled through them until he found what he was looking for. “Hmph,” the blonde grumbled. “These figures are quite disorderly, Mr. Crowley.”

The demon held out his hands expansively. “It’s a fickle market, Mr…?”

“Fell,” the angel said sharply. “You were expecting this meeting I presume...” His tone grew dark and dangerous.

Crowley licked his lips. “I was. Looking forward, actually.”

“Well you shouldn’t have,” the blonde admonished. “I have nothing but the worst of news to impart. We’re looking at finding your replacement.”

Crowley kicked his legs off of the desk, looking concerned for the first time. “You wouldn’t. You can’t!”

Aziraphale hummed. “But indeed we can and we will. I think you know your performance here has been sadly lackluster.”

The redhead’s nails dug into his desk before looking at the blonde hungrily. “And is there nothing I can do to...persuade you otherwise? Nothing I can do for you?”

The blonde shifted in his seat before setting his papers to the side. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

Crowley stood and walked around the desk until he perched on the edge right in front of the angel. “Anything,” he said openly. “I can give you anything you want.”

He knelt down and grabbed at the blonde’s thighs entreatingly. “Look at me. On my knees for you. I’m begging you.”

Aziraphale smiled and leaned back in his chair, shifting his hips forward. “I have been under a lot of stress lately,” he admitted. “The committee is breathing down my neck to make some drastic changes. I’m not sure I could convince them to change their minds, unless…”

Crowley’s eyes widened and he looked down at the angel’s lap. A noticeable tent was forming under his trousers. “Perhaps I could take care of that,” the demon said lustily. “Relieve some of that tension. Take your mind off of all your problems.”

His hands gripped tighter at the blonde’s thighs, stroking up toward his hips.

“Mm,” Aziraphale breathed out. “Perhaps.”

“No one has to know,” Crowley continued as he tugged at the angel’s belt, pulling it off easily.

Aziraphale’s head fell back as Crowley’s nose rubbed against his clothed erection. He kissed over the fabric and knipped at it lightly, drawing a deep groan from his husband. Crowley’s hands worked at the clasp on the angel’s trousers before pulling them down to reveal his hard dick.

“Oh,” Crowley gasped in admiration. “Look at that fat cock.” He licked at the tip and withdrew. “So thick,” he whispered. His mouth closed over the end and sucked gently, drawing out a bead of precum. The angel moaned and buried his fingers into Crowley’s slicked-back hair.

“Do you want me to suck it?” the redhead asked. “Will you let me fuck you with my mouth?”

“Fuck yes,” Aziraphale begged, twitching under his gaze. “If you make it good it might be worth your while.”

“Oh I’ll make it good,” the redhead promised, pawing at his own erection before slipping his hand under his waistband. He continued to stroke himself while burying the blonde’s cock in his mouth, sucking eagerly.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale panted. The demon was doing things with his tongue he’d never done before. At one point the angel could have sworn it had grown forked, licking down both sides of him at the same time. Crowley jerked down his own pants to free his matching erection, creating a show for the blonde to watch as he stroked them both in time.

Aziraphale watched him and grew desperate for more. His mouth was not enough. He kicked the demon off of him and twisted in the chair to present his puckered hole, fucking the air as he waited for Crowley to take him.

“Ohh,” the redhead laughed. “You’re a hungry little thing, aren’t you? You want me to fuck your hole? Fill you up and have my way with you?”

The angel moaned and rested his head on the back of the chair. “Please,” he begged. “Don’t keep me waiting. Want to feel you inside me.”

Crowley surged forward and dug his tongue into Aziraphale’s anus, pushing in and out steadily. The angel bucked in response, his hands gripping the sides of his chair until it threatened to break. He pushed back against the demon’s hot tongue which grew longer and reached deeper than humanly possible. To his utter amazement, Crowley fit two fingers inside along with it. The resultant sensation was miraculous.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale gasped. The demon chuckled as he withdrew his tongue, using his fingers to stroke at the sweet spot inside of the angel he knew turned him to jelly. “Oh fuck I’m close,” the blonde admitted with embarrassment.

Crowley’s fingers withdrew and the head of his cock found itself in their place. He pushed in easily and drew up to the hilt, smacking against the angel’s cheeks. Now it was Crowley’s turn to lose control. His hips moved of their own accord, slapping on Aziraphale’s backside as he furiously fucked the angel senseless. They were both groaning loudly now, much more loudly than the demon’s paper-thin walls could absorb. Outside of the office, his secretary paused and looked at the mail delivery man.

“Meeting going well?” the man asked. The secretary blushed furiously and excused herself to lunch.

Back inside the office, Crowley had lifted the angel’s hips and was holding the lower half of his body up so that he could fuck him while standing. Aziraphale’s grip on the chair drew creaks from the punished wooden frame.

“That’s it,” Crowley encouraged as his pace grew sloppier. “Give yourself to me, angel. Don’t hold back.”

Aziraphale practically screamed with pleasure as he took the brutal thrusts. He bit down on the backside of the chair and choked as his orgasm peaked, squirting his pulsing come all over the seat. Crowley wasn’t finished yet, however.

He grabbed up the angel and spun him around until he lay prone on the desk. Entering him once more, he drove into the angel’s body unrelentingly. “You thought you wanted this,” Crowley gasped. “But you never imagined how hard I would fuck you. You’re mine now. I might keep this up for days.”

Aziraphale whined at the demon’s words, but his cock was already responding again. He grew hard and felt the impending crush of a second, impossible orgasm. Seeing the response to his threat Crowley began to lose control, unable to stem off the impending tide of pleasure. He unloaded into the angel as the blonde cried out, tears falling from his eyes.

The two panted against one another, totally wrecked. Neither moved for several minutes.

At last, Crowley lifted his head to kiss his angel tenderly, lathing at his lips like icing on a cake. Aziraphale kissed him back before snapping his fingers to miracle their mutual messes away. They stumbled off of the desk and cuddled together on the floor, tangled in a heap of arms and legs.

“My love,” Crowley cooed.

Aziraphale cradled his demon with infinite care. “I’ve missed you so, dear Crowley.”

The redhead sighed contentedly. “So about my job…” he said with a laugh.

The angel rolled his eyes. “Well...I suppose we might keep you on for now. But let this be a warning to you. We’re always watching. In fact, I’ve been assigned to keep you in check personally. I suppose you’ll be seeing a lot of me from now on.”

Crowley grinned and nipped at the angel’s earlobe. “How awful for me,” he stated. “I suppose if you’re going to be around so much you’ll want someplace to stay. Can’t have you sequestered in endless hotel rooms and the like.”

Aziraphale looked thoughtful. “I don’t suppose you have something in mind?”

“I do actually,” the redhead replied. “There’s a fantastic condo that overlooks Central Park. I happen to know the owner is looking for a tenant. But I have to warn you he’s often there himself. He has an office in one of the wings.”

“One of the wings?” the angel asked. “It must be quite spacious.”

Crowley nodded. “Oh it’s vast,” he agreed. “Definitely room enough for two.”

Aziraphale kissed his demon with renewed relish. “I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” he said afterward. “But Crowley…”

The redhead inclined his head, waiting.

“Now that you have me, what are you planning on doing with me?” Crowley stared at the blonde, incredulous. Suddenly he remembered his own words to the angel, decades past. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Oh angel,” the redhead said softly. “Everything. Absolutely everything.”


End file.
